(A special thank you to my editor Benjamin but especially to my online friend Ralph who gave me the idea and got me off my buns to write another story.)
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"Come on, Jennifer, give me some," was the standard plea from my husband Duke.
Not that I minded making love with him, heck, we'd been together 8 years and had made love countless times in a variety of places. But this was Tiffany's wedding day and we were late for the ceremony. I was dressed in my perfect outfit, with perfect hair and perfect make up. I looked good.
Duke had played golf in the morning, had a couple beers with the guys, and arrived home late. Only stern warnings me got him through the shower and dressed, and now he wanted a quickie.
"Give me some, baby, or maybe I won't want to go," threatened my gauche husband. Jeez, of all the nerve.
Fuck, if it gets him to the ceremony on time I guess that's the ticket.
He told me to go to the couch and lift my long, flowing, Marc Jacobs' knockoff gabardine dress, the one whose meticulous tailoring and sexy deep cowl back always brings excellent comments. I went to the couch, lowered my sheer light blue bikini panties down my legs...luckily I had the forethought to wear my panties outside rather than under my garter belt, otherwise this would have taken a while.
Duke pushed me over the couch and without a bit of foreplay rubbed his throbbing cock up and down my slit before plunging in and beginning to hump away. I was being used, but lately that was the norm with Duke. Oh, we'd make love like the old days from time to time, but more often than not it was a quickie before bed, before work, on right before he went out with the boys.
I though nothing of it, really. I mean, if he was fucking me before going out then he wouldn't be shagging anyone else that night. And if he went out without having sex I made sure I gave him some when he got home to be sure he wasn't sliding his dick in some young honey.
Duke pounded away at me, and I pushed his hands from my bodice. "Don't mess the dress," I scolded. "We're gonna be late!"
The humping quickened as Duke got into his rhythm. He was predictable when he was in the midst of a quickie. Slowly screwing at first, then faster, then shooting him cum. Wham, bam, thank you mam. But at least we'd make it to the church on time.
"Oh baby I'm cumming," said my husband to nobody in particular. I mean, I don't think he really cared if I knew, other than the assault on my pussy was coming to an end. I felt his dick harden even more, if possible, and let loose of its hot sticky sauce. "Oh Jennifer you are the best," said Duke as his rocking slowed and his cock shriveled. He pulled out and began to wipe it on my dress before I slapped his hand away.
"Don't be a jerk," I barked. "Let's go."
I pulled up my panties, lowered my dress, and started toward the front door. "Don't forget to lock up."
The drive to the small, quaint church was uneventful. Tiffany looked beautiful, the ceremony was short but covered the major parts, and each of the stars uttered their "I do" with authority. Then it was off to the reception, held at a nearby stone mansion which had several banquet rooms.
About 100 people gathered and made their way through the meet and greet and into the largest room. A band played antiseptic wedding music, not to dance but to be in the background as people met and exchanged pleasantries. Duke was his usual self, laughing a joking with those he knew and turning into a mute for anyone he didn't.
Luckily for him several of his buddies were also in the crowd, so he at least had friendly faces to interact with. I spent some time with Tiffany, joked with several other friends, and learned more than I wanted to know about the families of a couple other women sitting at our table.
The boys went off to smoke cigars for a while, then returned. Duke and I danced a couple fast songs, the normal wedding ones, then he made a half-hearted attempt at a slow song before begging off with his friends.
They said they were talking sports, but they were probably mouthing off about their women. I remember at a similar setting a few months ago where I eves-dropped outside the door and heard Duke bragging how I can't get enough of his cock. Apparently some guy's wife didn't give head, and Duke had to tell the world how I loved it. That I'd suck his cock at the drop of a dime, like I was his own little hooker or something.
It pissed me off knowing he was telling people about our sex life, but it was a little hot hearing him talk about me...until he started complaining about how loose my pussy was. The bastard. He gave me those two kids who loosened it!
Oh well, let the boys go play. I sat with friends, talking girl talk, watching the entire goings on around us. It's funny watching people at a wedding...the old guys who are great at foxtrot and swing dances, the old women who attempt to get down and dirty to rap, the uncoordinated types to bang into people on the dance floor. Yes, people watching is fun at a wedding.
I noticed this older guy across the hall staring at me. Earlier he had been sitting with a woman, but now he was alone, sitting a drink. His eyes were glued to my legs...most likely because my dress had ridden up to mid-thigh. I smoothed it down, and he quickly looked away, but later I saw him staring again.
It became our little game, I'd move one way or another and show some leg, he'd stare until I turned toward him, at which time he'd be looking in another direction. I guess I was honored the 50ish man was looking at my 26-year-old body, but it was a little creepy.
Duke came back and sat down, planting a sloppy kiss on my lips before grabbing my ass. "Lesh go outside and get a p-p-p-iece," he said, bringing a gasp from several of my friends. "Whhhhat?" he slurred at them. "Jennifffuurrr is always hot to trot."
The man continued to embarrass me for several minutes before I led him off to the coffee bar, only to be shocked by his next comment. "I told the guys you would blow me in the back room and they could watch...how about it honey."